


Not in the Sexy Way

by reenjames



Series: Knight in a Leather Jacket [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bartender Dark, Dark has a bit of a temper, Dark is more than happy to provide, Escort Wilford, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wilford needs a little TLC, Wilford takes on more than he can handle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reenjames/pseuds/reenjames
Summary: Wilford needs some TLC after he takes on more than he can handle and Dark is more than happy to provide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Needed a little bit of fluff after all the smut. Plus, I can never pass up soft Dark with a little twist. 
> 
> Please excuse any mistakes, I wrote this unbeta'd. If you see them, let me know and I'll fix them.

Wilford straightened his suit in the mirror of the hotel room and slicked his mustache with a little spit. When he looked presentable again, he entered the attached room of the suite and smiled down at the man still luxuriating in the nude on the Egyptian cotton sheets. 

“I’ve got to go,” Wilford explained as he gathered his personal effects from the dresser. “Thanks for a good time, hun.”

The man on the bed groaned and hid his face in the sheets, forgoing the sight of Wilford exiting the room. Wilford nonchalantly walked through the lobby of the four-star hotel. The doorman held open the glass-plated door Wilford shot him a cheeky wink. He couldn’t turn it off when he was in a good mood. A combination of great sex, looking fantastic, and having a free night made him an exceedingly happy man. As he strolled down the streets, he found himself subconsciously directing himself to the bar where he had the fateful night with the strangely named bartender that left him wanting both more and less. He wanted more time with serious, soft-spoken man and less time catering to the needs of men who paid him for his time. Just as he was wistfully thinking of the possibilities with Dark, he approached the bar and was stopped by a ringing coming from his cell. He read the caller ID; it was his handler. 

“Sonny, nice to hear from you as always,” Wilford put on his sweetest, fakest affectation. “No, I didn’t. No. No! Alright. Alright, I’ll try. Thanks.” 

Wilford hung up the phone and shoved it back in his pocket. Taking a settling breath, he let out the air and released all the negative emotions that had just been introduced and were souring his mood. He intended to make this night a good one despite Sonny’s urgings to take on more clients. A brief fantasy of Dark clocking Sonny in the eye passed through his mind and brought a sly smile to his face. With the remnants of said smile twisting his features, he entered the bar. Dark wasn’t working; Wilford’s smile turned to a pout. 

Wilford headed to the middle of the bar. Any other new patron that walked through the door would have taken a seat at either end or at a booth in the corner. Wilford was not the average patron dressed in a sharply-cut linen suit. He couldn’t help, but command the attention of a majority of the bar.

Wilford ordered a pink drink and surveyed the bar as he waited for Dark to hopefully show up. There was the usual crowd you’d find at a dive bar - people looking to get lucky (whether sexually or at pool, Wilford wasn’t going to judge), people looking to have a good time, and people looking to forget. Wilford was hoping to fit into the second category, but would gladly take the third if the opportunity presented itself. 

His pink drink arrived and he searched for the straw with his tongue and gave the bartender an innocent look when he noticed him staring. He couldn't help if he had a way with his tongue, which was the only thought he had as he was roughly bumped into from behind, causing him to spill a bit of his drink onto the front of his linen shirt. Wilford turned around, indignant, and found himself face to face with the toughest looking man in the bar. He had overgrown facial hair, a jean vest with a patch covering the back, and tattoos from his neck to the tips of this fingers. He couldn’t have found a more opposite man to himself. Using the only defense mechanism he had, he started to lay on the charm - or so he thought.

Before he could get out one word of the many compliments he had in his repertoire, he was face up on the pool table, being calling a colorful array of names usually reserved for fruits and flowers. He’d heard worse. Wilford was pinned to the table by what he assumed were the man’s friends, he couldn’t move, but he did still have a steady grasp on his pink drink which he grinned at. 

“Sir, you can pay me for a good time, but this isn’t what I had in mind,” Wilford quipped. 

This may have been the wrong time to jest because the original, angry man climbed on top of Wilford and not in the sexy way. More of the “I'm going to beat the ever-living shit of out of you” way. 

“You fucking pansy. Take your gay shit someplace else,” the man roared and raised his fist to Wilford’s face, threatening to throw the punch. 

Wilford closed his eyes in anticipation, but the punch never came. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he saw that the angry man on top of him with a pool cue under his chin. Wilford tried to take a sip of his drink, but found his wrists still restrained. He pouted once again and furrowed his eyebrows, searching through the flinding, overhead lights for the person that held the other end of the pool cue. 

“Darky! My knight in...a leather jacket!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark gets in a fight and saves Wilford's ass.

Dark sneered at the nickname. He pressed the cue into the man’s throat, just above his Adam’s apple, threatening to constrict his breathing. The man twitched his nose in disgust and tightened his fist into a thick club, knuckles stained white, making his tattoos stand out even more against his skin. Baring his teeth, he backed off of Wilford and stared down Dark.

“You have business with this fag? You his boyfriend or something?”

Dark once again sneered and adjusted his grip on the cue. He intended to smash the guy’s face in, but decided to take the high road. He put the cue down, ran his fingers through his already mussed hair, and held out his hand to Wilford. The other two men were still holding his wrists, however, and he was unable to move. Dark sighed and made an abortive turn towards the angry man; his face was met with a meaty fist.

Dark stumbled backwards and raised a hand to his bruising face. He picked up the pool cue and turned towards the man, readied for a strike. He swung the cue at the man’s head and missed when he avoided the cue, dodging to the right. Dark parried and swung the opposite way, connecting the heavy end of the cue with the man’s temple. There was a sickening crack as the man fell to the ground. Dark turned to face the two, other men and fixed them with an expression that read “anyone else?”. They backed off, hands raised, and ran out of the bar and as far away as they could from the angry man with the pool cue.

Dark once again extended his hand to Wilford, whom now grasped it with a shaky grip. Dark supposed he would have been frightened as well if he were in that situation.

“Thanks, Darky,” Wilford said in an unsure voice, still trying to maintain the false confidence he had before he was accosted.

Dark drew Wilford into a rough hug. To all others, it seemed Dark was showing affection at his friend’s wellbeing, but this was not the case. Dark put his lips to Wilford’s ear.

“Don’t you dare call me that in public,” Dark whispered harshly. “And learn to take care of yourself will you? I can’t save your ass every time.”

Wilford grunted his acknowledgement and pulled away from Dark. He walked towards the bar, landing a cheeky smack on Dark’s ass that was sure to get him to follow, which was exactly his intention. He heard grumbled cursing behind him and continued to the bar. Wilford set down his drink and fluttered his eyelashes, hoping to communicate to the bartender what he wanted. Dark took the seat next to him, grasped the stem of the pink drink, and downed the alcohol as though it were a shot. Wilford grinned, which turned to a frown when Dark overturned the glass over to signify he was to be cut off.

“Dark, that was my first drink! You're such a fun sucker, and not even in the fun way. Why’d you cut me off?”

Dark ordered two shots of whiskey for himself and placed the money on the bar with more force than necessary. He waited to answer, despite Wilford’s annoyance, until he’d downed at least one of his shots. Although many of the customers at the bar were still watching the pair intently as though expecting something else to happen, Dark leaned over to talk directly into Wilford’s ear again.

“1) Because you look ridiculous drinking those and it was driving me crazy when you swirled the straw with your tongue and 2) I need you to be at full attention when you come over later.”

Wilford’s eyebrows shot up when he heard about Dark’s observations and stayed up during Dark’s speech. His member twitched in his pants at the promise of going home with Dark.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go now,” Wilford tried to convince Dark with a lilting tinge to his voice. Dark answered with a frustrated groan.

“I have to work until two - is that OK?”

“Whatever works for you, I’ll be there,” Wilford said, the lilt giving way to tightness as he realized he’d have to fill the time.

Wilford thought back to his conversation he’d had with Sonny and felt his body tense, matching the tightness in his voice. He stood up and pushed in his chair, looking to Dark for some indication that he wanted him to stay. When he got none, he sighed and placed a hand on Dark’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you later then,” Wilford told Dark, then left the bar, back towards the still unconscious man next to the pool table.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilford is sore all over and Dark has the perfect solution.

Wilford was sore in places he hadn't felt in years. He also hadn’t pushed himself that far in years, but he chose to ignore that fact. In the few hours he had to kill while Dark completed his shift, he had taken on one too many clients was now regretting that decision. Whatever Dark had planned for the two of them most likely wouldn’t be happening anymore. 

He slowly walked to the bar to meet Dark, but made sure to gather himself before entering, not wanting to show Dark he was in any way sore. Something about pride, he told himself. When he entered the bar, the only indication something was wrong was a slight stiffness to his walk. Dark must have noticed something was awry immediately because he got a suspicious, displeased look on his face, his brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He finished wiping down the bar and rounded it to meet Wilford. Dark stopped him halfway into the bar and gathered him into his arms. Wilford took a shaky breath, thankful Dark was there to hold him up. When Dark pulled back, the perturbed look remained. 

“What happened to you? Is there someone else I need to rough up?”

Wilford smiled a half-smile and chuckled. He pushed a strand of Dark’s hair out of his face, looking into the man’s brown-black eyes. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he replied. 

“You’re a terrible liar. It’s a good thing you’re not in front of a camera for a living.”

“Well,” Wilford retorted. “I could - for a price.”

Dark rolled his eyes and stepped away, gathering his effects and returning to Wilford, whom had taken a seat at one of the booths near the entrance. Dark held out a hand to Wilford and he took it, and was pulled - bodily - out of his seated position. 

“Do you want to go to my place? I don’t live to far from here.”

“Yeah,” Wilford agreed, veiling his hesitation poorly.”

“I have a surprise for you,” Dark assured, running a hand along WIlford’s back gently. 

 

Wilford was surprised when Dark didn’t pull them in to any alleyway or try to cop any feels. Part of him was also glad, but he kept his head up like a good soldier. Dark was right - he did live close, not more than ten blocks from the bar. When they reached the older, rundown building, Dark looked a bit sheepish when he took his keys from his pocket. Not having seen this look on the other man before, Wilford hugged the man from behind and placed a kiss at the nape of his neck, attempting to comfort him. Dark blushed in the darkness, opened the door, and led Wilford to the third floor where the small, studio apartment he called home was located. 

Dark pushed open the door after unlocking it. Revealed was a full bed, backed by a bookcase, which separated the living and sleeping areas. The kitchen consisted of undersized appliances, a two-person table, and a vase of surprisingly, brightly-colored daisies. When Dark saw Wilford smiling at them, he smirked. 

“I thought the place could use a little color,” Dark explained, as though the character deviance needed to be accounted for. 

“I love them,” Wilford complimented as he sat on the bed, removing his shoes and watch, placing them near and on top of the night stand, respectively. 

When Dark had deposited his own effects onto the kitchen table, he went straight into the bathroom and started to draw a bath. Wilford, thinking he’d be wanted in a moment to “help” Dark, began to quickly undress; he was stopped halfway through his shirt buttons when Dark placed his hand over Wilford’s. 

“Stop,” Dark urged. “Let me.”

Surprised, Wilford set his hands at his sides and let Dark unbutton the reset of this linen shirt. When he was finished, he pushed the shirt off his shoulder and noticed the bruises blooming on his chest and stomach. Dark carefully ran hands along the darkening spots, then kissed Wilford’s hand as if to show he meant no harm. Wilford’s eyes fluttered shut at the light touches.

“The bath should be ready now if you want to join me,” Dark suggested.

He stood and stripped himself to his boxers, then walked to the bathroom to test the water. Wilford was supremely confused at the man’s passive actions, but complied nonetheless. Entering the bathroom, he was treated to the sight of Dark’s ass as he was leaning over the tub to turn off the water. Wilford couldn’t help himself and ran his hands over Dark’s rear, which was still clothed. He ran his thumb under the hem of the boxers and moved to drag them down, but Dark turned around before he could. 

“You don’t have to do that, Wil,” Dark told him. “Let me get in the bath and you sit in front of me, ok? Then I can give you your surprise.”

Dark disrobed completely and sat in the bath, spreading his legs to make room for Wilford, whom was appreciating the view of the man in front of him. Licking his lips, he also disrobed and stepped into the bath, gradually lowering himself into the water. Dark pulled Wilford to his chest and sighed. 

The warm water covered them both to their middles. Wilford was like putty in Dark’s hands as he began to massage his shoulders, arms, and chest. Wilford shut his eyes and enjoyed the pampering. Dark reached behind himself and grabbed the loofah and body wash. Running the stream of soap over Wilford’s shoulders, he scrubbed over all the places he could reach, while letting the subds run over his own body. He took his time washing Wilford, afterwards, holding him close and humming a jazzy tune which made Wilford doze off. They’d both awake later - pruned and cold - but exceedingly content. Wilford made a mental note to drop in on Dark more often, especially if this was the outcome.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Drop a comment if you feel like talking! Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it!


End file.
